Boy meets girl: Take 2
by teabean
Summary: They had met before, but both messed up. Now they've both changed, and here's they're second chance. Will it work? Only if they want it to...
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own anything to do with Gilmore Girls, actors, characters, plots, etc, that would be the wonderful people at WB. Although if I did, I'm pretty sure there'd be some big changes coughChadcough. Anyway if you do feel inclined to sue me, some people have strange urges and we must accept them for who they are, I'm currently flat broke so all you will get is a used textbook, probably on organic chemistry.

Chapter 1: 

The boy reread the list of books, double checking the numbers printed on the multi-coloured pieces of card sticking out like street signs on the tops of the bookshelves. According to his reputation, he was a party-boy who liked fast cars and faster women, but in truth he was a hard-worker and didn't mind spending the last Friday of his holidays studying for the impending first semester of his tertiary education.

As he passed the second last row of shelves, he sighed inwardly in frustration, the numbers were still in the 600's he need 713.8 RAL. Maybe he should give and go party like every other 18-year-old he could think in their 'last days of freedom' before the start of university. Looking into the last aisle, the boy noticed a brunette girl already there.

It always weirded him out whenever he bumped into anyone in library aisles, it seemed wrong, like the aisle was not available if some was already there. He considered this library etiquette dilemma as he watched the girl struggle in vain to free a book from the top shelf. Smiling inwardly he took note of the stool a couple of metres from her. And on the floor, near her feet there was a travel mug of coffee and a small pile of books.

The boy appraised the girl, she was quite pretty in an intriguing way, she had a magnetic air about her, easily the centre of attention at a party, She was undeniably familiar too, looking again at her face, he tried to pick why. Suddenly the girl was thrown back from the shelf and colliding with the other shelf. Seconds later, all the books on the shelf the girl collided with began falling on to her. Just as the boy was about to help the girl, he finally realised who the girl before him and he spontaneously began clapping.

-- 

The girl reached up impatiently. She concluded that libraries discriminated against more vertically challenged members of society. Why was it the exact books she required were always just too high for her to reach, she thought, as she jumped slightly, trying in vain to get the object of her desire? Without warning the bookshelf released its vice-like grip on her precious book and the girl was flung back into shelves behind her.

For a moment she sat on the floor, stunned, yet happy, her back side a little sore, but her brain satisfied with its catch, before she heard an eerie creaking coming from somewhere. It was followed by the sound of material being torn then suddenly books were raining upon her slight form. Their pages fluttered slightly as the books took a short flight from their high prisons. They fell like a hundred fat flightless birds, with resounding thunks as they landed awkwardly, a stream of ouches accompanied as they all attempted to make like pigeons and land on the girl. From beneath her literary avalanche, the girl could hear clapping. How dare they? She thought as she resurfaced from her mountain of books. Her eyes narrowed on the indecent clapper, so openly enjoying her moment of sheer embarrassment.

"Miss Loralie Leigh Gilmore," began the indecent clapper, a blonde boy, about the girl's age, smirking, "I see my absence has done you no good at all."

The girl continued to sit, confused, then it hit her.

"Tristan Du Gray!" she exclaimed momentarily forgetting her situation, proud of her memory skills, then scowling added, "well are you going to do the decent thing and help me up, or you going to just stand there?"

"Anything for you, Mary," the blonde smirked, hauling up the girl, "Good to see you still remember me."

"Well I see you managed to hit you're head at military school, and are still stuck in high school," Rory said, snatching her hand back.

Any rebuttal on Tristan's part was prevented when a wiry, old woman barged in on their little reunion.

"In case you failed to realise your current location, let me remind you. You are in a library and in libraries you should be quiet," she scolded the two angrily, far from quietly, then noticing the pile of books, paled and continued as if physically pained, "How could you? All these books! You will have to put these back in the right order before you leave. And next time you are thinking about going into a library, remember this day."

The librarian eyed the two of them critically before leaving as hurriedly as she had arrived.

"Well Mary, I see you have your hands full, I'll leave you to it," Tristan said as he began to leave.

"Oh no you don't! You are going to help me put all these books back, she was talking to you to," Rory hissed.

"Actually you're the one who made the books fall, so you should be the one who has to put them back, I'm just an innocent bystander," Tristan returned, he did really need to find that book.

"But there are so many books," Rory changed her tactic, using the damsel in distress card, "How will a little ole' girl like me put all of them back, and in the right order too?"

Tristan considered his situation for a moment, her pleading eyes, their messy history, the book he needed to find, the plans he had made for the evening… what the hell, of course he'd help her.

"Fine, I'll help, but you owe me big, very big," he said making a big show of his generosity, like she was asking him to donate a vital organ.

The pair set to work, sorting through the pile of books, for the most part in silence, due to the librarian's little outburst earlier and because neither teenage knew where to begin talking. Finally as he replaced the last of the books, Tristan found the book that he had been originally looking for.

"Good thing I didn't leave before then, I needed this one," Tristan said to Rory, tapping the book in his hand.

Rory looked up, a little surprised that he actually came to the library looking for a book, then frowned when she read the title.

"That's my book," she exclaimed, trying to grab it out of his hands.

"No?"

"Yes!"

"Serious?"

"Very!"

"But I found it," Tristan said pouting, giving Rory his best 'puppy dog eyes'.

"No, I found it first," returned Rory, ignoring the look he was giving her.

"Well I have it now," Tristan replied triumphantly holding the book well out of her reach.

"If I hadn't found it first, I wouldn't have made all the books fall and made you help me put them back and therefore you wouldn't have found it second."

"Yes, but if I hadn't been looking for it, I wouldn't have been here to help you and you would still be sorting."

They both stopped, staring confusedly at each other, their arguments didn't quite make sense.

"How about we share the book, since there seems to be only one copy?" Tristan said, practically.

"Um okay," answered Rory, it sounded a bit suspicious to her that Tristan would want to share something with her.

They made their way to the front of the library where they found that the self-checkout stations all had 'out of order signs' on them. Approaching the help desks, they noted the librarian from before looked rather smug. Tristan laid the book on the table and pulled out his student card.

"You're too late," said that librarian haughtily.

"Pardon?" asked Rory, as politely as she could.

"Borrowing hours are between 8 am and 7 pm on Monday to Friday and 8 am to 5pm on Saturday and Sunday," haughty and sneering. Scary.

Tristan and Rory simultaneously checked their watches, it was 7:10pm. Rory felt like she was going to blow her top and would have if Tristan hadn't been there.

"Well, we spent the last three hours resorting all the books in that particularly aisle, as you may remember, where there was an unfortunate accident, which I might add if this library improved its service may have been prevented," said Tristan using all his tricks.

Oozing charm, the giga-watt smile and the slight lean forward, all screaming upper class, old money, "Speaking of this particular library, I was about to make a recommendation to my father for a substantial donation to it. This library has this particular book that seems rather popular yet particularly difficult to find, but now, I'm not sure."

Tristan had added a patronising tone and a disappointed head-shake to complete his rich-boy stance and finally made sure that the now-stunned librarian saw his last name on his student card as he put it away. Rory found it extremely hard to keep a straight face as she watched Tristan behave exactly as most people, including herself, expected him to act.

"Well, I'm sure we can make an exception, this one occasion," said the librarian with a nervous smile, ready to impress walking money, which almost made Rory gag.

"Maybe I will speak to my father in that case," replied Tristan, smiling, as the librarian put the book through.

Escaping the confines of the library, the pair doubled over alternating between laughing and choking.

"Will you actually speak to your father about the library?" Rory asked when she finally recovered.

In response Tristan just shrugged nonchalantly, it would depend on whether he actually spoke to his father and on what terms.

"Well I guess this is mine then, Mar," Tristan said, waving the book in front of her face, teasing her.

"What!" exclaimed Rory, "No, you can't do that, I really, really need it."

"Do I need to remind you what we just went through to borrow this? Now do you think would be in touching distance of the book if I hadn't been there? Hmm?" Tristan asked, jokingly, "This better live up to expectation, or that was one massive waste of time."

A comfortable silence settled over the pair as the walked aimlessly through the grounds of Yale University.

"You hungry?" Tristan asked, taking a chance, "Do you want to grab something to eat?"

Rory considered the offer for a minute. Tristan had actually made it through three hours without any innuendos, so he must have grown up, at least a little, it would be nice to do some catching up plus he had said it casually, not like a date.

"Okay," replied Rory, startling Tristan, he hadn't expected her to agree so readily, but there was a catch, "As long as I get to pay for what I eat."

"Sure," lied Tristan, as long as he was around, Rory was never going to pay for another meal again, "What do you feel like, then?"

"Umm, anywhere as long as they have good coffee." Well, naturally.

"Well, I know a great little Italian place," replied Tristan as they made there way to the car park and got into his black convertible BMW.

--

AN: Do not, I repeat, do not read and review… I'm trying reverse psychology, how am I doing?


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own anything to do with Gilmore Girls, actors, characters, plots, etc, that would be the wonderful people at WB. Although if I did, I'm pretty sure they'd be some big changes coughChadcough. Anyway if you do feel inclined to sue me, some people have strange urges and we must accept them for who they are, I'm currently flat broke so all you will get is a used textbook, probably on organic chemistry.

AN: Yes, I have changed the title. Save confusion on the name.

**Margaret**: Thank you for your input and after some consideration I decided to leave the first chapter as is. Most people know University is called College in America, but not everyone knows that College University. For example, my high school was called a college. As for 'Pardon' vs 'Excuse me', for me personally, when reading, the tone of 'excuse me' can seem accusatory in some situations. 'Pardon' can also be accusatory, but that's not usually my first impression when reading.

**Photoboothromance:** Wow, my first serial reviewer. Hello again! Thanks for reviewing, I'm glad you like it. Question: Which story is better?

**Imconfused247:** Thank you for your review and scroll down, I've updated! Sorry for the delay, I'm trying to keep my head straight with my two different fics that are going simultaneously.

**Rish:** Another serial reviewer! Welcome. I haven't really decided how this one will play out, I have some idea and for the moment, this one is going to be a long fanfic. I hope you like your sagas. Thanks.

**LoVe23:** Wow! I'm glad you LOVE THIS too, makes my day to read that. I guess you like this story better than my other one, huh? Thanks for your support. I like summary writing, maybe I'll give up my day job (writing the fic) and just write summaries. Just kidding, what's a summary without the story, right?

**Rockrose:** Thanks! Trouble is, no matter how great the start, it's the continuing that's hard, so I hope it'll stay good. Hopefully you'll be the first to tell me if it starts going downhill.

**Rscpgx:** I like your review! I award you the shortest, sweetest review award, here's a virtual jelly bean…

**Xoxocmmxoxo:** Thank you for your review. Tristan should definitely come back to GG. Hartford high society can't be that big and Tristan's family lives in Hartford so Rory has to see him sometime, right? And he no longer has to wear itchy uniforms. Tristan and Rory had so much potential and then CMM had to go be all ambitious! Not that I don't love Chad, he's in my top 5 hot guys, although he did falter a bit with the divorce from Sophia Bush, I have a theory on that too. Sophia was cheating on Chad with the other guy from OTH while Chad was filming in Australia, but he didn't find out until after they were married. So over-wrought by his wife's indiscretion, he had a dalliance in a strip club. What do you think?

**LHTDfan:** Thanks. I think it will be a Trory with a different kind ending. I can't really explain but there is Tristan and there is Rory and stuff happens to them. Gosh, can I be more vague!

**Jocelyn Towers:** no, the reverse psychology worked, people reviewed! No thanks for your review (that was awful, my reverse psychology is worse than your's!). No really, thank you for taking the time to review.

**FairyGirl07:** I'm glad you like my story. Thanks for reviewing.

**Jalna:** Once more, WOW! Your review, is well, wow. As I said in Shades of Grey, you do read a lot more into what I write than I realised there was room for. I really don't know what to say other than thank you very much.

**Emily:** guys come on, reverse psychology is when you tell someone not to do something so that they will do what you want them to do. Like telling your annoying little brother to 'come here' when you actually want him to go away. Thanks for your review.

**Luvablemilo:** Thank you for your review. I hope I'm updating soon enough.

**Maeusle:** Did you find it had to read the parts with dialogue or without? Was it sentence structure? Where the sentences too long? I would really appreciate it if you could be more specific. Thanks.

**Riotgirllina**: Thanks for your review. I didn't even think about whether they were in HS or college, so I'm very sorry and grateful and I'll try not to do that again.

**Wickedshizit:** Thanks. I hope I'm updating soon enough. Also, I hope to keep updating this story at least once a week, my other story gets priority, just because I started that one first.

**Kat:** There will be more Tristan, don't worry. Thanks for doing the irresistible and reviewing.

**Finnlover:** There'll be a whole host of characters in this one. I'll try to get Finn, Colin and Logan in, but I can't promise that they'll be true to form just because GG was on hold in Australia, where I live, for ages so I haven't seen them in action yet.

_This chapter is dedicated to my good friend Laura, it was her birthday on Sunday, she hit the big 2-0. Happy birthday to everyone, even if it wasn't your birthday and let's celebrate with another chapter…_

**Chapter 2**

Rory forehead creased slightly and a frown began to form on her lips when she saw Tristan's 'little Italian place'. The La Mama restaurant was certainly little, but not cute little, nor was it home-y little, it was actually exclusive little. She noted the other patrons entering were dressed very formally, in tuxedos and evening dresses.

"Tristan, we can't go in there," Rory hissed as they got out of Tristan's car.

"Why not?" he asked looking genuinely puzzled as he walked to the entrance.

"This place has got to have a dress code and we're both wearing jeans."

She was about to physically drag him back to the car, when the doorman greeted Tristan.

"Good evening Mr Du Gray, how are you?" he asked, holding the door open for Rory and Tristan.

"Evening Thomas, I'm good, and you?" Tristan returned easily, the doorman's answer was muffled as the door closed behind them, but before Rory could ask how Tristan knew his name, the maitre'd launched herself at Tristan.

"Oh, Mr Du Gray, it's soo good to see you, I suppose you'd like your usual table. How have you been? You haven't been by in soo long, I was worried that maybe you'd forgotten about us."

"Marie, the usual would be fine," Tristan replied untangling himself from the woman, as other patrons turned to glare at the bizarre display, then grabbing Rory's hand, "and this is Rory."

For a moment Marie stared at Rory critically, before leading them to their table, whose previous occupants had been hastily moved to another table. Tristan's usual turned out to be a two-person table hidden away at the back of the restaurant. The music and lighting was soft.

"Romantic," commented Rory as they sat.

"Actually it's perfect for people watching," he said, then seeing Rory's surprised expression added, "What? If a date is really boring, I people watch, my dates have never noticed anyway."

"No, I mean Tristan Du Gray people-watches? I always thought you'd be too caught up in yourself to notice other people," stated Rory incredulously.

"I'm not self absorbed," snapped Tristan.

An uncomfortable silence fell over the two and was only broken when Marie came to take their order, but before Rory could say anything, Tristan ordered for her, asking for the usual plus coffee, which left Rory curious. When Marie left to get their order, Rory spoke up again.

"Sooo, do you came here often? I mean, you're on first name basis with the doorman and the maitre'd?" asked Rory, it seemed a safe topic, plus she needed to redeem the earlier friendliness that she had broken.

"I see, Mary, that Chilton really went downhill after I left," began Tristan, smirking, then seeing her puzzled expression, added "Didn't they teach you to read? Thomas, the doorman, had a name tag," he then smiled ruefully, conceding, "And as for Marie, I went out with her once."

"Ugh, you and your player ways," Rory muttered, she should have known.

Once more silence descended over the table, this time, Tristan broke it.

"So, how are things with you?" he asked, sounding genuinely interested, much to Rory's surprise, "I thought you were headed for Harvard?"

"Last minute change of plans," Rory explained, she had to admit she was surprised that he remembered her preferences for university, "Yale's closer to home and my grandfather wanted me to go here. Yale's a good school too."

"Yeah it is," commented Tristan quietly, as if lost in thought.

"How was military school?"

"It was great," Tristan said smiling dryly, "If you're into five o'clock starts and buzz cuts."

"Oh."

"So are you living on campus?" asked Tristan, after a moment.

"Um, yeah, Branford College. You?"

"My parents bought me an apartment just off campus, graduation present."

"Of course."

"It's the only reason why they got me to agree to Yale. I didn't really want to spend any more time in cramped quarters, having to share it with two or three other guys, I had enough of that in military school."

Their food arrived, an intriguing looking entrée, which Tristan refused to explain to Rory, insisting she try it first.

"So what was that called?" Rory asked as soon as she finished, it was indeed very delicious, but she couldn't quite pick what it was.

"I actually have no idea, it's the chef's surprise," replied Tristan, grinning slightly.

Rory just looked at Tristan quizzically

"Pardon?" she asked.

"My grandfather bought this restaurant for my grandmother because she loved good Italian food. I've been coming here since I was little and the chef used to serve me whatever was his latest concoction, so I've never actually ordered anything from the current menu, he tries everything out on me then it goes the menu," Tristan explained.

"Wow."

"My usual is whatever Ross, the head chef, is currently experimenting with."

"Any unfortunate moments?"

"A couple, there was an unpleasant incident involving a wacky beef, pork, chicken thing and life long vegan," Tristan answered smiling at the memory.

"Not pretty?" Rory asked, Tristan's smile was contagious and she found her lips curving up of their own accord.

"Definitely not pretty. I don't know which was worse, the look on her face or the actual meal. Since then Ross has been a little more cautious."

"So what course are you doing?" Rory asked, changing the subject.

"Law/Arts," Tristan replied, his tone was neutral, but Rory thought she could hear an emotion that she couldn't quite put her finger on, "And I'm guessing that you are doing Arts, majoring in Journalism."

"How do you remember so much about me?" Rory asked, surprised, "I mean you remembered I wanted to go to Harvard and now the Journalism thing, which by the way, you are correct about."

"What can I say, Rory Gilmore, you are a memorable girl," Tristan smirked.

"Well, you'll never guess who my suite-mate is?"

"Hmm, PJ Harvey," Tristan joked, referring to an incident in their past, "No, I'm kidding, Paris Gellar."

"How – "

"Paris' mother, my mother, DAR. Need I say more?"

"But, of course."

"Also Paris and I exchanged a few emails," Tristan pulled a face remembering, "Actually I sent a few, Paris sent a lot, she's a very demanding girl."

"Tell me about it, I'm living with her," laughed Rory.

"If you ever need a break from the future America's-first-female-president, give me a call," Tristan replied, trying to not to sound too hopeful.

"I think I just might," Rory smiled.

"Who would have thought, Rory Gilmore wants my number," Tristan smirked, hiding his sigh of relief.

"And just when I thought it was safe, Chilton-Tristan makes his reappearance," Rory retorted playfully.

"Chilton-Tristan can come out whenever you want him to, all you have to say is the magic word."

"Oh stop it already, you're ruining a perfectly good evening."

"There are so many things I could say in response to that, but just for you, I will refrain from saying anything."

"I feel so honoured," she murmured sarcastically back.

"You should – " Rory could see the smirk starting to form and hastily interrupted him.

"Tristan!"

"Oh, fine," Tristan pouted childishly before changing the topic, "So did you do anything special over the summer?"

And with that, Rory began telling him about her adventures in Europe with her mother.

--

After the meal concluded and Rory had filled her coffee requirement, Tristan drove her back to her dorm, insisting on walking her to the door.

"So I hope you had a good time?" Tristan asked as they walked.

"Actually I had a great time," Rory answered, smiling.

"You sound surprised?"

"I am," Rory nodded, "You've changed. I don't think the evening would have been the same with the pre-military school Tristan."

"Yeah, you would have ended up naked, screaming my name," Tristan spoke frankly, his lips twisting into his trademark smirk, "Not that any of my dates complained, in fact I do recall every single one enjoyed themselves thoroughly."

"And there's the Tristan I remember," Rory replied grimacing as unwanted images formed in her mind.

--

They entered Branford College, where Rory's suite was located, Tristan, ever the gentleman, holding the door open for Rory. The pair were greeted by a sight standard for a university dorm late on a Friday night. Drunken kids stumbled about, ducking in and out of various suites. A couple making out in a darkened corner of the hallway

"Well this is me."

She waved her hand vaguely at the door to her suite, the only suite that was not open to the party-goers.

"I'd invite you in, but I think Paris has put a ban on visitors tonight, even ones she knows," Rory explained apologetically.

"That's okay. It's a late and I don't want to see Paris yet, at least not until I'm battle-ready," he replied easily.

Rory studied the grain of the wooden door, unsure of what to do next, completely aware that Tristan was staring at her. After a moment's indecision, he kissed her cheek.

"What?" he asked, trying to sound innocent as Rory looked up at him with confusion written all over her face, "If I was pre-military school Tristan, you and I would be making out like a couple of rabbits, right about now."

Rory punched his arm playfully as he smirked at her.

"Oh, go away, Tristan," she exclaimed, trying to keep from blushing at the images Tristan's words had let in.

"Good night, Rory," his smirk softened into a faint smile.

Turning he walked out of the dorm.

"Good night, Tristan," Rory replied softly watching him leave.

--

AN: Another chapter written at midnight… I'm starting to go nocturnal… hopefully everything makes sense!

AN: What's black and white and red all over? A newspaper… or a dead magpie. That has absolutely nothing to do with my story, but if you have something that does, please feel free to press 'GO'… they really should make that button green, that would make a lot more sense, but I guess they are catering to the colour blind members of society and if they had 'GO' on a red button, it would be like an oxymoron, only on a button… can you tell I haven't slept in over 24 hours?


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I don't own anything to do with Gilmore Girls, actors, characters, plots, etc, that would be the wonderful people at WB. Although if I did, I'm pretty sure they'd be some big changes coughChadcough. Anyway if you do feel inclined to sue me, some people have strange urges and we must accept them for who they are, I'm currently flat broke so all you will get is a used textbook, probably on organic chemistry.

AN: Okay, so I did abandon this story for a while for various reasons, but I'm sure you don't want to hear the excuses. Thank you to everyone who read and special thanks to those who took the time to review:

Photoboothromance, Rockrose, Wickedshizit, Emmy, Ktam36, LoVe23, Rish, Roxygirl, Red dot are awesome, FairyGirl07, Emma, Xoxoxocmmxoxo, Riotgirllina, Emily, Mamashirl, STB, CoffeeLuva

**Chapter 3**

…recap..

Rory and Tristan run into each other again at Yale. They are both starting there, Rory's a Journalism major, Tristan's studying Law/Arts. They have dinner together and learn what's been going on in each other's lives.

…

The racket was unbelievable. Who knew that four girls could make so much noise, especially considering it was before 9 o'clock on a Monday morning.

"Oh my god! Has anyone seen my blue top with black lace cap sleeves?" cried the Korean girl with glasses, running around in harried circles.

"Can't you wear something else, Lane?" Rory asked, "You're blocking the coffee machine. I need coffee."

"Sorry," came the half-irritated, half-apologetic reply as Lane rushed back to the bedroom.

"Coming through!" a tall girl in shorts and a tank top barrelled into the kitchenette.

"Is that a Danish?" another girl demanded

"No, that's my breakfast," the taller girl snapped back.

"You're eating a high fat, high sugar party for breakfast on the first day of education at one of the best universities?"

"What! Some people can't force themselves to eat oatmeal, Paris."

"No wonder why you have to run six times a day, trying to keep the flab at bay!" Paris replied scathingly.

"I run because I'm an athlete."

"A wannabe athlete. Would a real athlete eat a Danish?"

"I have a very high metabolism, I can eat what I want. Anyway I have to get to class now. Bye Rory. Enjoy the high fibre, low GI food the colour of vomit, Paris."

"Rory, do you think this shirt's too nerdy?" Lane asked returning from another plunge into her closet, "I want to make a good first impression."

"You look great," Rory replied.

"Really?" Lane asked excitedly.

"That's what she just said," Paris said, in her usual tone.

A knock on the door distracted the three girls momentarily.

"Oh my God! It's Dave and he's early," gasped Lane, "Paris, please answer door."

"Honestly, Lane!" Paris exclaimed, but even so, she slid off her stool and went to open the door, "Dave, 9 o'clock does not mean ten minutes to nine – you're not Dave!"

"No, but I can be, if that's what you're into, Paris."

"Dugray, what are you doing here?" Paris snapped, he hated how he always managed to catch her off guard.

"I guess that means no love from Gellar?" Tristan eased passed her and into the room, ignoring the glares she was sending his way.

"You're not Dave," Lane said frowning.

"No, no I'm not, but I want to meet this Dave, he seems like a popular guy."

"Tristan, what you doing here?" Rory asked, looking up surprised.

"Well I checked my timetable and it appears we have the same lecture first thing on Monday, so I thought maybe we could go together."

"You make it sound like a date," Paris interjected.

"Whatever makes you happy," Tristan smiled winningly at Paris.

"Well the lecture doesn't start until 10 o'clock," Rory said.

"I didn't mention that I found the best coffee on campus?" Tristan asked casually.

"No! Where?" Rory asked, "Why didn't you tell me before?"

"I was getting to it," Tristan shrugged, "Anyway, what do you say?"

"Of course!" Rory exclaimed, "Just let me get my things."

She rushed off to collect her satchel and notebook.

"So, you not going to pull anything are you?" Paris asked Tristan, eyeing him curiously.

"No, what do you take me for?" Tristan asked, his expression innocent.

"So you're Tristan?" Lane asked, with a sly smile.

"I think we've pretty much covered that," Tristan responded.

"Well, I'm Lane, Rory's bestfriend and I know everything."

"So you're God, huh?"

"Pretty much, pretty much. So watch where you put your paws or else."

"Or else you'll strike me down with a bolt of lightning?" Tristan smirked.

"You've been warned."

"Duly noted," Tristan glanced towards Rory's room, willing her to return soon, "So who's Dave?"

"Please don't get her started," Paris muttered.

"Dave is the greatest guy in the world," Lane exclaimed, sending a glare in Paris' direction.

A knock on the door ended Lane's spiel on what made Dave great before she could even begin.

"And he's here," Lane almost squealed, rushing off.

"Oh thank God," Paris sighed.

"Did Lane leave already?" Rory asked coming out of her room.

"Yeah, be thankful," Paris said.

"Well we should go too," Tristan said, glancing at his watch.

"Bye Paris," Rory called as they left.

--

"So, our first day, how do you feel?" Tristan asked Rory as he caught up with her at the end of the day.

"Very collegiate," Rory smiled.

"Excellent. I think we should head to the nearest coffee shop, sip lattes and debate Intelligent Design versus Evolution."

"Yes on the coffee, but can we postpone the debate? My heads stuffed."

"Already? You've got four long years ahead, how ever will you survive?"

"Coffee, lots and lots of coffee."

"You're meant to say with great friends like me… fine, can I really compete with a bean that's roasted and ground and whatever else they do to coffee beans?"

"You keep talking about coffee, but I'm not seeing any?" Rory prompted.

"This way," Tristan sighed, suppressing a smile.

"So, Lane's band is performing this Friday, you should come," Rory stated as they walked.

"Lane's in a band?"

"With Dave."

"I could've guessed," he muttered, "He's like a rash."

"Hey! Dave's a good guy."

"I've no doubt… so the band?" prompted Tristan.

"Yes they've got a gig, it's nothing major, supporting the supporting band at an off-campus pub."

"Should be good, I'll be there."

--

AN: Okay, so that was a shorter chapter, but I'm too tired to make it any more interesting. Oh an another thing, Dave never left for California and he and Lane's other bandmates all go to Yale.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I don't own anything to do with Gilmore Girls, actors, characters, plots, etc, that would be the wonderful people at WB. Although if I did, I'm pretty sure they'd be some big changes coughChadcough. Anyway if you do feel inclined to sue me, some people have strange urges and we must accept them for who they are, I'm currently flat broke so all you will get is a used textbook, probably on organic chemistry.

**Rockrose:** I don't like Zack and Lane either, they don't have the chemistry, but I suppose Adam Brody had better and bigger things to move on to.

**Rish:** Sorry about the slow updating, I have long term plans for this story, it's harder to think of the filler bits, if that makes any sense.

**Photoboothromance:** I know it was a bit flat. Actually a few things I posted felt a bit disappointing, I've hit a bit of a rut and the weather's not helping me concentrate, it's too hot.

**FairyGirl07:** Thanks for reading and enjoying. Tristan's a little less serious in this story than my others, so I guess he's more likeable.

**LoVe23:** Thank you. Sorry for the slow updating of this story.

**Wickedshizit:** If you mean the pub gig, sorry, but I haven't made much of it, but I'll try to make up for it in another chapter. Thanks for reading.

**Finnlover:** I don't see why not Lane's bandmates can't be smart enough to get into Yale. Thanks for reading.

**Imconfused247: **Thank you for reviewing. You don't need to beg/grovel/plead me to update, just review ; )! Sorry for the slow updating.

**Zdfgbzsdfhj:** Hope I got all the letters in your name right! Thanks for reading.

**Addicted2LancelotAndTristan:** Thank you and sorry for the slow updating.

**Chapter 4**

The gig turned out perfectly. The pub was one of the most popular with Yale students, so the placed packed to the rafters when Lane's band went on stage. And despite any nerves that would have been expected, they played brilliantly and were incredibly well received by their audience. In fact the band was so popular that the pub's manager dumped the support band to make room for Lane, Dave, Brian and Zack.

"Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God!" Lane cried, hugging Rory as the joined her, Tristan and Paris at the bar, "It was so great."

"I think I've lost my voice," Zack grumbled.

"I think I've developed a rash on my fingers," Brian grumbled back.

"What's wrong with them?" Paris asked Lane.

"Zack got a little over-excited and started screaming backstage and Brian accidentally touched something of questionable origin," Lane explained.

"You must be the infamous Tristan Du Gray," Dave said turning to Tristan who had been watching the group silently.

"Infamous? I don't know about that, but you must be Dave, Lane's boyfriend," Tristan grinned, he had to shout over the music as the regular band had just started their set.

"That's me," Dave replied, "So what'd you think about the band?"

"You guys are great!" Tristan sounded genuinely excited.

"Seriously?" Dave looked at him in surprise.

"Yeah," Tristan nodded, "And if you guys are interested, I might know some people who might be interested in signing you guys."

"No way! That'd be great. I'd have talk to Lane and the guys first, but…"

"Anyone want a drink?" Zack interrupted in his scratchy voice, "First rounds on me."

--

"What'd you do?" Rory demanded as they walked to class the following Monday.

"What do you mean?" Tristan asked, taken aback by her sudden attitude.

"Lane's literally bouncing off the walls and she can't seem to form sentences long enough to tell me what's going on. All she seems to say is 'Tristan' and 'Dave', which makes me think that you might be gay, but that's impossible because why would Lane be happy that her boyfriend is gay?"

"How could you think that I might be gay?" Tristan frowned.

"What's wrong with being gay?" Rory asked.

"Nothing… if you are gay," Tristan shrugged defensively.

"So would it be a bad thing to be called 'gay'?"

"Put it this was, if you are gay and some said you're straight, wouldn't you be offended?"

"I don't know, I guess, maybe," she hadn't thought of it that way, "Why are we having an argument about being gay?"

"You brought it up."

"No I didn't."

"Yes you did," Tristan, "You were saying that Lane was bouncing off the walls and–"

"Why?"

"Huh?"

"Why was Lane bouncing off the walls?"

"I don't know, you were the one who was telling the story," Tristan pointed out.

"Yes, but I don't know why Lane was bouncing off the walls."

"This conversation is like being stuck in a roundabout," Tristan muttered.

"Hey, I heard that!" Rory exclaimed indignantly, "Just answer the question."

"I told Dave –"

"_Are_ you gay?" Rory asked curiously.

"No!" Tristan laughed at the ridiculous nature of her question, "I think I'm going to have to cut your daily coffee intake."

"Don't you dare!"

"Well, it's starting to get impossible to have a conversation with you, you keep jumping around from topic to topic."

"Maybe we should up your coffee intake, you need to learn to keep up."

"You know, coffee stunts your growth," Tristan informed her.

"Blasphemy!" Rory cried, "It'll be eternal damnation in hell for you."

"At least I'll be tall with strong bones," he grinned.

"Are you saying I'm short with weak bones?"

"I can see clear over the top of your head."

"No you can't! And plus you're a boy."

"I hadn't noticed," he replied sarcastically.

"I'm not talking to you any more," Rory replied, pouting childishly as they took their seats in the lecture theatre.

Tristan was about to respond when the lecturer started to speak.

"Okay, I hope you're all rested and ready to go," she said, peering over the reading glasses, "Good. Well I like to start the second week by handing out the major research project for the semester. Say hello to you're neighbour, they are your new project partner."

"Hello, Rory," Tristan grinned at her like a Cheshire cat.

"Oh dear Lord," Rory murmured, sinking into her seat.

--

"Paris, stop freaking out!" Tristan exclaimed, watching her pace around him seated on the floor.

Rory had gotten over her initial annoyance at having to work with Tristan and the two of them had started on the project. Right now, Rory was in her room talking on the phone to her mother, while Tristan started going over their notes in the lounge room of the suite Rory shared with Lane, Paris and Janet.

"Do you think I'm too uptight?" Paris asked him, "I'm really aiming for a cool-out-there, hand with the stoners, mix with the preps rep. I really want to make a good impression. Do you think I'm overly ambitious."

"Can you say future dictator?" he asked dryly.

"Du Gray!"

"What, I'm serious. Right now your channelling every mad cap dictator I can think of. You're the queen of hearts in Alice in Wonderland. I'm checking the decapitation clause in my life insurance."

"Fine, what do I have to do?" Paris sighed.

"Take a deep breath, pick up the phone and call Lucy."

"Lucy Pritchard?" she frowned.

"The one and only."

"Why?" Paris whined.

"Do you want to have the best suite party Yale had ever seen?"

"Yes."

"Do you only want to hold one party and never have to hold one again?"

"Yes."

"Do you want to stop stressing out?"

"Yes."

"Then call Lucy."

"Won't people know? I mean I don't want anyone to know that I didn't organise it."

"That's why you call Lucy, Marcel is the indiscrete one."

"Should I be concerned that you know so much about event organisation?" Paris asked, eyeing him curiously.

"Just call Lucy," Tristan snapped, wondering what compelled him to help her in the first place.

--

"Oh thank you so much," Paris said to Tristan in a very out-of-character moment.

"Er, Paris, you do realise you're hugging me?" he asked, eyes wide with shock.

"Um, yeah, sorry," she said uncomfortably letting go of him.

"So I take it, it's a success," Tristan said, looking around the suite.

The place was filled with students and everyone seemed to be having a good time.

"Yes, word is no one turned up to Misty Cameron's suite party. She organised hers for tonight after I told everyone about this one."

"Great beer," random guy said bumping into Paris, "Where's you get this stuff?"

"Belgium," Tristan answered, rescuing Paris yet again as she drew a blank.

"Damn, I want to go to Belgium," he replied stumbling off.

"And the food's perfect. Not too classy and not too microwave-able."

"Paris, you're hugging me again," Tristan said awkwardly.

"Sorry."

"So, is Rory around?" Tristan asked, trying to diffuse the uncomfortable air about them.

"Yeah, she's in her room. I should go circulate."

"I'll see you later."

He approached Rory's room, knocking on the door he waited until he heard a muffled 'come in', before going inside.

"And she's reading again, how novel," he smiled.

"That didn't work the first time around," Rory returned the smile.

"I know, sorry, couldn't resist."

"Great party huh?"

"Paris is happy."

"It's kind of scary," Rory admitted.

"Tell me about it! She hugged me, twice!"

"Yeah well I would too if you just made me the talk of well the talk of everything. I hear Lucy helped."

"You're not supposed to know about that."

"Paris and Lucy got into an argument," Rory explained, "It was hard to miss."

"So what are you doing in here?"

"Reading," she replied holding the book up.

"No, I mean there's a pretty decent party going on right outside your door and you're reading."

"What's wrong with reading?" she asked indignant.

"Absolutely nothing," Tristan replied firmly, "But maybe you'd like to, I don't know, socialise occasionally."

"I socialise enough," Rory replied, trying to sound convincing.

Tristan said nothing, eyeing her pointedly.

"Fine, parties like that aren't really my sort of thing."

"Doesn't mean you can't have fun," Tristan countered.

"I have fun. I enjoy reading and I do like parties, the Stars Hollow kind."

"Rory, you need to get out more."

"Why?" she whined.

"You're young and free, enjoy."

"By getting drunk and having one-night-stands?"

"There's other ways."

"Like what?"

"Do you trust me?"

"Um, it would depend on what you're suggesting."

"What if I said, good clean fun?" he asked.

"You promise?" she asked apprehensively.

"I promise."

--


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I don't own anything to do with Gilmore Girls, actors, characters, plots, etc, that would be the wonderful people at WB. Although if I did, I'm pretty sure they'd be some big changes coughChadcough. Nor do I own anything to do with PJ Harvey or U2. Anyway if you do feel inclined to sue me, some people have strange urges and we must accept them for who they are, I'm currently flat broke so all you will get is a used textbook, probably on organic chemistry.

**AN:** Just a touch disappointed, only 5 reviews for the last chapter (plus 1 for an earlier chapter), is this story so boring? Thank you immensely to the people who did take the time to read and review, I really do appreciate the time you take.

**Photoboothromance:** thanks for reading and reviewing. And I have no idea what you mean (I'm kidding!), so scandalous, I wouldn't dare!

**Rish:** Thank you so much for reading and reviewing. I think it's futile to imagine a gay Tristan and do you really want to? Unless you are a gay guy (I'm assuming you're not, no offence intended), why go to the effort when all really want is a very straight Tristan! Admit it, you want him!

**LoVe23:** Quicker updating this time, don't know who long this new trend will last since I'm back at uni (university/college/whatever you call it) and even though it's only the second day, I'm exhausted.

**FairyGirl07:** Thanks for reading and reviewing. And see, I'm updating, hope I can continue updating quickly.

**Sarah:** Thank you for reading and reviewing, and I'm continuing!

**Ess3sandra:** Why are you confused? Anyway, thank you so much for reading and reviewing.

**Chapter 5**

"Are you going to tell me anything?" Rory was almost hopping with curiosity.

"No," Tristan tried unsuccessfully to suppress a grin. Who knew that keeping secrets from a Gilmore could be so much fun?

"Oh come on, this is completely unfair," Rory whined.

"It's a surprise," he replied shaking his head slightly.

"I don't like surprises," she retorted.

"Just trust me."

"I don't think I can any more," she grumbled, pouting.

"Okay, I'll give you one question," he relented, unable to refuse her childish expression any longer.

"Hmm," her brow creased as she tried to come up with the best question, "What should wear?"

"You can wear whatever you want," he replied honestly.

"What kind of answer is that!" Rory exclaimed, "You never tell a girl to wear whatever. Do you have any idea how bad an answer that is?"

"I'm getting some idea now," he replied dryly.

"I need to know whether there's a dress-code. Whether it's a heels kind of thing or whether I should wear comfortable shoes. Is it more a jeans-and-sweater event or a skirt-and – "

"Okay, okay, I get the message," Tristan interrupted.

"Well?" she tapped her foot expectantly.

"Can't say I've ever partaken in this activity in a skirt or heels," Tristan replied cryptically, "But jeans and comfortable shoes should suit fine."

"So is it an indoor or outdoor activity?" Rory asked.

"Can't say?"

"Why not?"

"It's a surprise."

"You've already said that," she frowned at his stubbornness.

"And you're apparently not getting it," he grinned.

"Fine, when is it? You can at least tell me that."

"This Saturday, I'll pick you at four."

"PM?"

"No, AM," he replied quite seriously before bursting into laughter seeing her horrified expression, "I'm kidding, I'm kidding!"

"It wasn't funny," Rory grumbled, not liking being the cause for his amusement, "I don't think I've ever seen four AM before. Does it even exist?"

"Well I can't say I'd do it regularly, at least not any more, but getting up at four in the morning can be quite incredible."

"Were you high?"

"No," he grinned, "But one day I'll make you get up early."

"Not even coffee would wake me up so early."

"I'll make it worth you're while."

"How?" she scoffed, "If coffee can't do it, no one can."

"You'll see," he smiled mysteriously, "Lane might be all-knowing, but I'm not without divine powers too."

--

"So, it's four o'clock on a Saturday afternoon. I'm wearing jeans and comfortable shoes and we're driving somewhere in your car," Rory assessed the situation, "Are you going to tell me where you're taking me?"

"Can't, it's a surp – "

"No, you are not going to say 'surprise', from now on, that word is banned from your vocabulary."

"Fine, it's a secret," he grinned.

"I can't win with you, can I?" she scowled.

"Give up already," he laughed, "Many have tried to beat me and all have failed."

"Arrogant much?"

"With good reason."

"So should I close my eyes, blindfold, etc?"

"Why?"

"You said it's a surprise, shouldn't I close my eyes?"

"No, not unless you're into – " he smirked.

"You're so predictable," she groaned, wishing she hadn't said anything.

They fell silent, the sounds of the radio played quietly between them.

"Are we there yet?" Rory asked, breaking the silence.

"What are you, five?" Tristan raised an eyebrow at her.

"I'm bored and the country-and-western station you seemed to stuck on is sending me insane," Rory complained.

"There's a stack of CD in the glovebox," Tristan replied, "And I happen to like all types of music."

Rory dug through the pile, there was a surprisingly wide selection to choose from.

"You have PJ Harvey?" Rory asked, surprised, holding up the CD.

"I wanted to check out what all the hype was about," he shrugged.

"And what did you think?"

"I can see why she's popular," he replied vaguely.

She was tempted to put the PJ Harvey CD in, but she couldn't go passed the U2 album. Soon she was singing, loudly and off-key, along with Beautiful Day.

"Come on, Tristan," Rory urged, "Sing! You know you want to."

"Can we go back to the radio?" Tristan whined.

"Why? This is so much more fun."

"Not for my ears," Tristan grumbled.

"What are you insinuating?"

"That maybe you should stick to singing in the privacy of the shower?" he suggested, a little nervously.

"You did not just say what I think you just said!" Rory exclaimed, looking very indignant.

"I'd love to deny everything, but we're here," Tristan answered, relieved.

Rory peered out of the windscreen, she squinted at the signage above a building that looked a lot like a mini country club.

"Welcome to the Hartford Valley Amusement Park," Tristan grinned.

"It also says closed," Rory pointed out.

"Maybe to the ordinary people it is," Tristan nodded, "But it's not who you know, it's who knows you."

"And are girls normally impressed by your connections?" Rory asked, eyeing him quizzically.

"Well that would depend. Are we on a date?" he asked her openly.

"No," she replied.

"In that case, you wouldn't be impressed, because I'm not trying to impress you. Now are we going to sit in the car for the rest of the day?"

"No," Rory answered, getting out of the car to prove her point.

"Come on," Tristan said, leading the way to the entrance of the amusement park.

"So it's just us?" Rory asked a little warily.

"Mmhmm," he nodded, holding the door open for her.

"But doesn't that kill the atmosphere? I mean, isn't half the fun of going to a theme park, all the crowds and noise and stuff?"

"That would depend on what you're doing."

"Huh?" she replied, eyeing him sceptically, trailing after Tristan as he walked through the complex.

"For example, on a roller coaster, having a heap of other people around makes you feel slightly less stupid for screaming, right?" he asked, he nodded to a man about their age standing behind a counter.

"Exactly," she replied, watching in confusion as the man disappeared into an adjoining room.

"But on the ghost train, a really good one, you can't even tell that there's someone sitting right next to you," Tristan continued on, walking into another part of the building

"True," Rory conceded, "So what are we doing?"

The man Tristan had nodded to earlier approached them, carrying to two golf clubs, two gold balls and a piece of paper, he handed the items to Tristan without a word and not even a passing glance at Rory.

"Oh and Gary, one more thing," Tristan called as the other man started to leave, "Could we have some atmosphere… for the lady?"

Gary nodded his acknowledgment and shortly after, music began to play through hidden speakers.

"So we're playing golf?" Rory asked, eyeing him sceptically, "This is you're idea of fun?"

"Mini golf," Tristan grinned, "And don't knock it, 'til you try it."

"They said the same thing about shoulder pads," Rory muttered.

"Come on," Tristan cajoled, "You did promise to trust me."

"Can I plead momentary insanity?"

"Maybe after I thrash you," he replied.

"Oh really?" she scoffed, "You mean after _I_ thrash you."

"Well you can't even entertain that ridiculous thought if you don't actually play," he held out a golf club to her.

Rory eyed it suspiciously, she had never been one for sport, it just wasn't a Gilmore thing, but Tristan had dangled the bait and she had unwittingly snatched it up with both hands. She couldn't very well back out now, not without looking like a complete fool. Let it be noted, Rory Gilmore was not afraid of a challenge.

"You're on," she declared, accepting the golf club from Tristan and giving him her best intimidating glare.

Of course Tristan chuckled, watching the range of emotions flit across Rory's face, but he kept his comments to himself, perhaps a little wary of loosing to a girl.

--

The stage was set for a crucial and tense final hole. The scores were tied as they approached the 18th synthetic green. Tristan, being a gentleman, had allowed Rory to go first, and she lined the ball up carefully, biting her lip and creasing her brow in concentration. She had surprised herself by enjoying the afternoon, it helped that Tristan had brought out her competitive side, but truthfully

She aimed to hit the edge of the fibre glass castle, sitting to one side of the green, hoping that it would bounce off and head towards the hole, but in a reminder that she was no athlete, the dimpled white ball came tearing back towards her.

"What's the par?" she asked Tristan apprehensively, as she lined the ball up again.

"Um, three," he said, referring to the score sheet they had been provided with.

Once again, Rory tried the same tactic, this time with a little less force and had a little more success. The golf ball bounced off the castle and headed in the right direction, rolling into the 'moat', it disappeared into a little chute. Rory headed to the mock 'Excalibur', pulling the sword up would release the ball in another section of the green. She tugged at the fake sword, but of course she lacked the muscles to pull it out, she groaning with the effort, she pouted at Tristan who was busy laughing at her attempts.

"Here, let me," he said finally managing to stop laughing long enough to pull the sword up effortlessly with one arm and releasing the ball.

"Well just because some of us don't spend every waking minute at the gym," Rory grumbled to herself, preparing to take her next shot.

Of course Tristan didn't spend a single minute, awake or otherwise, at the gym, but Rory wasn't in the mood.

"You got a four," Tristan marked off her score on the card, before handing the paper to her and lining up his first shot, "Pretty good."

Rory said nothing, partly because she knew he was just saying that to make her feel better and partly because she knew that if she opened her mouth, she would just try to distract him. Tristan first shot went perfectly, the ball entered the moat and disappeared as if it wanted to go there. Once again, he effortlessly lifted the sword and took his second shot, bringing the ball perfectly in line with the hole for his third shot.

She was itching with desire to distract Tristan just enough to make him miss the hole, she did want to beat him after all. Tristan watched her from the corner of his eye, amusement made a smile twitch his lips. Years of trailing his father and grandfather around the course at the country club, meant that the action of hitting golf ball had become so natural that it took actual concentration to overshoot the hole and send the little golf ball bouncing crazily about.

"You missed," Rory stood stunned, how on earth had Tristan missed, "It had to have been the simplest golf shot in the history of golf shots."

"Even the pros make mistakes," Tristan lied, shrugging nonchalantly.

He walked to where the ball now sat, a spot from which even a pro would find impossible to get to the hole in one shot. Reverting back to his normal game, Tristan hit the ball into the hole in two shots.

"Looks like you won," he smiled slightly.

"I won?" Rory stared, wide-eyed with surprise, "Oh my God, I won! I beat Tristan Du Gray."

"Gees, no need to tell the whole world," he grumbled, "What happened to humble champions?"

"They don't get endorsed," Rory replied, almost bouncing with excitement, "I can't believe I won!"

"Who would have thought? Miss You-think-golf-is-fun-," Tristan continued the act, which Rory was completely oblivious too, "Can we go now? It's late and I'm hungry."

"Fine, sourpuss, we can go," Rory sighed, allowing him to lead her back to the car.

"Next time I'll win," Tristan said confidently as they hopped in, "I won't be going easy on you."

"Look who's the sore loser! Can't take a bit of beating. Next time I will thrash you," Rory replied, equally confident.

"So there will be a next time," Tristan grinned slyly, instantly breaking from his sour demeanour.

Rory gaped at him, speechless, how had he managed to pull that on her?

"Why you manipulative little – "

"Big," Tristan corrected her, "Manipulative big. I assure you that there's nothing little about me. Wanna see?"

"You know what? We will have a rematch because I want to prove to you that today was no fluke," Rory announced, "I will beat you again."

"Bring it on, baby," Tristan grinned, starting the car and driving out of the parking lot like a madman on speed.

--

**AN:** Please review! I really like reviews, they make me happy in a totally legal, healthy way and I really appreciate them. Reviews are my fuel and right now I'm running on empty.


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I don't own anything to do with Gilmore Girls, actors, characters, plots, etc, that would be the wonderful people at WB, now CW I think (it's been a while since I've seen anything GG related). Although if I did, I'm pretty sure there'd be some big changes *cough*Chad*cough*. Anyway if you do feel inclined to sue me, some people have strange urges and we must accept them for who they are, I'm currently flat broke so all you will get is a used textbook, probably on organic chemistry.

**AN:** Thank you to rish, LoVe23, FairyGirl03, photoboothromance, Ali, wickedshizit (2 times the love for you : p), dragonfly, graace, unbelievably tragical x3, KrazyKarah, CoffeeObessed007, Cadence, BeautifulBlackRose, harum-scarum. Apologies once again for the huge delay in updating.

**Chapter 6**

"So how was your little outing?" Lane asked slyly, pouncing on Rory the minute she had stepped inside the suite.

"It was fun," Rory smiled honestly, "I had a great time."

"Where did he take you?" Janet asked, taking a break from her sit ups.

"We went to a mini-golf place."

"He made you do sport?" Lane gasped in mock-horror.

"Actually, it was fun," Rory replied grinning, not quite believing it herself, "I beat him, believe it or not."

"You beat Tristan Du Gray at golf?" Paris asked, wide-eyed with disbelief.

"Mini-golf, yeah," Rory replied, looking at Paris in confusion.

"Tristan Du Gray, the one we went to Chilton with? Called you Mary?" Paris questioned.

"Yes!" Rory exclaimed, "Why? What's wrong?"

"Oh nothing," Paris shrugged flippantly, "Except that he would have been a golf pro, ala Tiger Woods, Vijay Singh, Ernie Els, if not for the fact he hated the clothes."

"What do you mean?" Rory frowned, not liking what Paris was suggesting.

"No one looses a game of golf to Tristan, no matter how 'mini', unless he want to," Paris explained.

"Are you saying Tristan let me win?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying," Paris replied, a little smugly.

"Why?" Rory asked, feeling a little deflated, her victory wasn't really a victory at all.

"You'll have to ask Tristan that on himself," Paris shrugged.

--

"Why'd you let me win?" Rory demanded the very second she spotted Tristan the next day.

"What makes you think I let you win?" he frowned in confusion.

"Paris told me," she replied smugly, sounding a little too much like the other girl for her liking.

"Maybe you really are good and maybe I make bad shots too," he replied defensively.

"Tristan," Rory warned.

"Are you saying you didn't want to win?" he asked.

"No, I…" she trailed away, unable to formulate a question.

"What does it matter anyway?" he tried to shrug the whole thing off.

"It does matter," Rory insisted, "A victory is supposed to be worked hard not gifted."

"Fine, I let you win so that you would have fun and maybe spend less time reading and more time out and about," Tristan replied getting irritated, "Sorry for trying to be your friend. Now I have class to get to, see you around."

"Tristan, I'm sorry," she called desperately, but he was already gone.

--

Rory tapped her pen nervously on her notebook, waiting for Tristan to make his appearance in the lecture the theatre. She had spent the whole weekend working herself up into a state, wondering whether they were still friends, whether he would still next to her in their common lectures. Late on Sunday afternoon it had it hit her that she was acting like all those girls back at Chilton and she wondered how on earth she had managed to skip that entire phase only to find herself acting like a teenage girl when she had finally made it to a much more grown up environment like Yale.

"Hey," she greeted him, hoping he was still talking to her, to say she was relieved when he sat down next her in their usual spot was an understatement.

"Hello," he replied, his tone coolly polite, as he removed a spiral bound notebook and ball point pen from his bag and placed them neatly on the bench in front of him.

"How are you?" she persisted.

"I'm fine," he answered still not looking directly at her, he wanted to stop them, but the manners driven into him from birth prevented him, "And you?"

"I'm good… but I could be better."

He said nothing in response, staring stony faced into nothingness in front of him.

"Are you doing anything this weekend?" she asked, trying not to sound too eager.

"Maybe."

"Because I was thinking maybe we could have that rematch?"

"I've got stuff to do," he replied vaguely.

"Oh come on, I'm trying here. I'm sorry about the way I reacted," she replied morosely, "Will you at least think about it?"

"Like I said, I've got things to do," he replied.

I guess I tried, Rory though, sighing.

"Okay," Tristan relented quietly just as the lecturer turned to face the students.

--

"Rory what on earth are you doing?" Paris asked.

"What?" Rory looked up blankly at her suitemate.

"Um," Paris looked around pointedly at the piles of phone books and lists that surrounded Rory, "Are you trying to start up an underground directory assistance? Info for dirt cheap prices? Cash under the table for the address of the closest Thai restaurant?"

"I'm doing research," Rory replied curtly.

"For what? Your future career as a cabbie?" Paris asked.

"No, I'm trying to make it up to Tristan, for overreacting about the mini-golf incident," Rory sighed.

"And you thought you'd impress him by memorising the A-to-K?"

"Actually I'm looking up amusement centres."

"Like theme parks?"

"Go-karting to be specific. I figure Tristan likes cars and I thought it might be fun."

"You want to race Tristan Du Gray in small metal carts with no safety features?"

"He won't like it," Rory sighed, defeated.

"Actually, he'll love it."

"Yeah?"

"All I'll say is, beware of unleashing the speed demon. You might want to be the one who drives there and back, you won't want to let him near a real car for a little while after."

--

"So where are we going?" Tristan asked, he fidgeted in the passenger seat, since he had gotten his license, he had never sat in the passenger seat of a car.

"Can't say," Rory replied smugly.

"This is payback for last weekend isn't it?"

"Don't dish it out, if you can't take it."

"You're one to talk," he retorted.

"And here we are," Rory announced, pulling into the car park, "Randy's Adventure Wonderland."

"Randy's? Are you trying to tell me something?" he raised his eyebrows suggestively at her as they got out of the car.

"Get your mind out of the gutter," she laughed, they walked over to the entrance, "There are kids here."

"So what's the plan?" Tristan was literally hopping from one foot to the other seeing all the various activities, "Maybe hit the roller-coaster first, then one of those spinning around rides, bumper cars are classic, oh and fairy floss and popcorn. Then head for ghost train, don't worry I'll protect you, and finally I'll win you a giant purple elephant with my fantastic sledge hammering skills?"

"Okay, first off, let's put the ego back in its box, we don't want to scare the kiddies," Rory told him, hiding a grin at his childish antics.

"Aww, but…" he gave her his best puppy dog eyes as he trailed after her.

Approaching a counter, Rory whispered something to the girl serving who quickly collected two helmets and handed them to Rory.

"And then we put these on," Rory handed a helmet to Tristan, who raised an eyebrow quizzically at her, "Just trust me."

"Famous last words," Tristan muttered, taking the helmet, "This is going to ruin my hair."

"It's not the helmet you should worry about," Rory replied with a knowing grin.

"What are you saying?"

"Three words: male pattern balding."

"What! I'm not going bald," he exclaimed indignantly, before worried touching his hair, "Am I?"

"Oh stop it," Rory laughed, "Before I start singing Carly Simon. You're not going bald. Just put the helmet on."

Muttering indignantly to himself, Tristan did as he was asked and secured the helmet on his head. Hiding a grin, Rory slipped her own helmet own.

"So now what?" he asked once he was finished, his voice muffled by the helmet.

"Turn around," Rory directed and Tristan did so.

There was a moment's silence as Tristan processed what was in front of him. A large, wide track, lined by stacked-and-painted tyres, two columns of cars sat to one side, unoccupied. Just outside the gated entrance of the track, a dozen children bounced around excitedly, their helmeted heads bobbelled and at the very edge of the crowd stood a gaping Tristan and grinning Rory.

"We're going go-karting?!" he asked her in disbelief.

"Yup," she answered simply.

"You're forgiven,"

"I should hope so."

"I'm so not letting you win this time."

"I should hope not, if anything, it'll be me letting you win," she said with far more confidence than she felt.

"Wanna bet?" came the reply, complete with his trademark smirk and she felt relief bloom in her heart, they were okay again.

--


End file.
